


Pillow Talk

by A Crimson Phoenix (cw151)



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Karen's Past, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past LGBTQ abuse, Past Violence, Pillow Talk, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 04:37:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cw151/pseuds/A%20Crimson%20Phoenix
Summary: It's been two months since the events of TP. Karen finally tells Frank about her past.TRIGGER WARNINGS: Past abuse, past LGBTQ abuse, past child abuse, past deaths of family members.





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for voting for the prompts for this fic on tumblr!
> 
> Here's the first resulting fic, including 
> 
> 2\. Karen's past  
> 4\. Sharing a bed/snowed in  
> 7\. Pillow talk
> 
> Technically, 4) was not requested, but I included it anyway because this winter has been far too grey and rainy and I need some SNOW!
> 
> Let me know what you think!

When Karen opened the door for Frank it was already snowing like crazy. Outside of her window it was almost impossible to make out the houses across the street through the whirls of snowflakes, and it took Frank nearly 30 seconds to rid himself of all the snow that had settled on him during his short walk from his van into the building.

“Hey, come on in!” Karen’s smile was almost giddy, and she tried to calm herself internally. It had taken quite some convincing to have Frank stay over during the blizzard that had been forecasted for the next 36 hours. Frank had insisted that he did not want to impose on her, while Karen had tried her best to explain to him – without being too obvious either – how much she really did not mind having him there.

Ultimately, Karen had won the argument through sheer persistence, which was why Frank was now standing in her apartment with two bags; a duffel and a large carrier bag of groceries.

 

“I, uh, brought some food for us to eat,” he said, lifting the grocery bag slightly and looking a bit lost.

“Great, thanks,” Karen replied and motioned towards the kitchen island. Frank quickly took her cue and placed the bag onto it. Karen dusted some remaining snowflakes off it and peeked into it.

“Well, you’re definitely much more prepared than I am for this blizzard,” she said with a smile. “I did buy some canned food and kitchen staples, but this looks like we’re going to have a feast.”

Frank gave her a wry smile. “Might as well do some proper cooking, doesn’t look like we’ll be able to do much else anytime soon.” He hung up his coat and placed the duffel bag underneath it.

“We can also drink,” Karen pointed out and swiveled towards the kitchen counters. “Beer? Wine?”

“Wine’s good,” Frank replied.

“Red or white?” Karen asked as she got two wine glasses.

“Red,” Frank replied. “Got us some good steaks.”

“Coming right up,” Karen replied.

 

As she busied herself with the wine, Frank went about putting the groceries away, occasionally asking her for directions. Karen glanced over to him. His initial sheepishness was gone, and he seemed to move around her kitchen with ease. She had to admit that she liked the sight of that.

It had been barely two months since it all ended. Two months since Frank became Pete – at least officially, though he would always stay Frank to her – and about one month since she’d seen him again for the first time since the hotel. He’d called before that to let her know that he was alive and that he had to take care of a few things before he could see her. Karen suspected that actually meant that he wanted to wait to see whether everything was actually over and no-one else was coming after him, and also, that he didn’t want her to see his injuries just after he’d been through with Rawlins and Billy. But he had called.

Since they had seen each other again for the first time, in some dingy diner that according to Frank served the best breakfast and coffee in town, they had met more and more often. And somewhere along the way their dynamic had begun to shift. Whether she would see Frank again was no longer a question; now, it was just “when will I see Frank next” and each time they made plans to hang out again, Karen found it more difficult to suppress the butterflies in her stomach.

 

Karen knew that trying not to fall for Frank was no longer an option. She was in love with him, she had admitted as much to herself about one week ago when she caught herself living through every moment of the army stories he was telling her with him. She had unconsciously wanted to reach out to him several times that day, to touch his arm or the back of his head, and to weave her fingers through his. Each time she was able to stop herself, but what she didn’t get in actual physical interaction her brain supplied readily to her. From remembering Frank’s tender touch after the explosion, to his forehead against hers in the elevator, and the soft feel of his lips against her cheek – her brain hardly seemed to remember anything else these days. And it didn’t stop there. Her mind was taking things even further, imagining Frank’s five o’clock shadow ghosting over the soft skin of her throat and neck, his hands running up and down her sides, his lips and his hips on hers, and his head between her thighs.

 

Yeah, Karen knew she had it bad.

 

But still, she tried to not let it show. For one, she didn’t want to push Frank. The whole ordeal before Thanksgiving had left its marks, and she agreed with Curt (whom she met briefly when picking Frank up after his weekly meetup) that Frank now finally had the peace of mind to grieve. Frank had neither agreed nor disagreed, and Karen was not surprised. She knew first-hand how difficult and messy the process of grieving was, and how never actually was over, just that the pain got more muted over time.

That another reason why Karen tried to not let her feelings for Frank show, and why she tried to stop herself from falling too fast and too deep. The part of her life that Frank didn’t know about, that no-one really knew about, hung heavy over her head. She knew she would have to tell him eventually, and that he would probably be the only person in the entire world who understood, truly understood, but that did not make it any easier to tell him. There was still that small part of her that feared that even he would recoil from her once he knew who she really was, and with every passing day since her realization that she loved him, both the urge to tell him and the fear of doing so grew larger.

 

“You ok?” Frank’s gruff voice pulled her out of her reverie.

Karen blinked and then smiled quickly at him.

“Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought,” she said and averted her gaze. Frank just nodded slightly.

Karen slid him one of the wine glasses.

“So, to what are we drinking?” she asked, forcing some cheer into her voice.

Frank grinned sheepishly.

“To my hostess, I’d say. Hate to admit it, but my place was already nearing freezing point when I left. Definitely much better to hang out here,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

Karen raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, are you saying – are you saying I was right?” she asked with a triumphant facial expression that did not require any force this time whatsoever.

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Frank shot back with his signature crooked smile. “So, to you!”

“To me being right,” Karen corrected and Frank smirked and looked around the room before taking a sip. Then he turned to the kitchen island.

“Let’s get started on the food, I’m starving.”

 

Several hours and a few glasses of wine later the two of them were sitting on the couch laughing away at some of Frank’s childhood memories. Karen was not surprised to hear that Frank had been both the most well-mannered (“my ma had my hide each time she spotted any impoliteness”) and the most go-getter kid (“I just got these ideas in my head and just went about doing them. Usually turned up covered in soot from head to toe or something. Ma didn’t bat an eye and just hosed me down on the porch”). Frank’s face was truly happy for once, and Karen wished that she could see that kind of smile more often on him from now on.

“Sounds like you were already a handful back then,” she giggled as she pulled her legs underneath her and took another sip from her wine glass. Her knees were almost touching Frank’s thigh as he lounged with both feet planted firmly on the ground and whilst leaning against the back of the couch.

“Definitely,” he said and took a sip himself as he stared straight ahead with a nostalgic look on his face. Then he shook his head and turned it towards Karen.

“What about you?” He grinned. “Any good stories I should know about? Feels like I’m only ever talking about myself.”

“Oh, ah…” Karen twirled her glass between her fingers and looked at it. “Well, I was definitely not as wild,” she said with an amused smile, contemplating what to say. She lifted her eyes back to him.

“I was Junior Miss Outdoor Vermont when I was fourteen,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

Frank stilled with a small smile.

“Really? Atta girl,” he said, and Karen felt that warm fuzzy feeling blooming in her chest just like every time he said or did something appraising of her. “So’s that like a regular Miss America pageant or what?”

Karen nodded slowly.

“Yeah, minus the swimsuit competition, and plus some outdoor disciplines. You have the whole evening-gown and interview stuff, but also shooting, scouting, a winter sport and a summer sport. Mine were ski racing and rock-climbing.” She said with a shy smile. All of that seemed so far away now.

Frank nodded appreciatively.

“I, ah, I was also on the cheerleading squad,” Karen said sheepishly.

At that, Frank let out a short laugh.

“Real all-American girl, huh? Probably went to church every Sunday, too,” he chuckled, looking straight ahead once more and taking another sip.

There it was. Karen could feel her face falling as that familiar darkness crept up behind her. She swallowed. Not now. The evening had been so nice, so cozy, so carefree. The snow was still falling outside, they had set the TV to a program showing a fireplace (Karen’s idea, of course), and the last few hours every inch of her body down to the last corners of her toes Karen had felt warm and just – content.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Not now.

 

Suddenly, Frank’s hand was on her knee.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, his brow knitted with worry.

Karen opened her eyes again.

“Yeah,” she said breathily. “Just, uh, spaced out for a sec.”

“Been doing that a lot lately,” Frank said, his gaze fixed on her. “You sure you’re alright?”

Karen just nodded, not trusting her voice.

“You can talk to me, you know that, right? ‘Bout anything,” Frank followed up.

Karen cleared her throat and ran a finger around the rim of her glass.

“I know,” she finally said firmly. “It’s not that, it’s just…,” she trailed off.

Frank gave her knee a squeeze.

“I get it.” He waited until she looked up. “Just, you know, anytime you wanna talk, just let me know, ok?”

Karen nodded and blinked away the tears she could feel forming behind her eyes. She cursed herself inwardly. Apparently one tiny prod from Frank was enough to set her off now. His hand was still on her knee and she could feel it burning hot through the fabric of the loose cotton pants she was wearing.

Then he sat up, taking his hand away in the process, and suddenly, Karen felt incredibly cold.

“It’s getting late, we should go to bed. Come on, we can continue this tomorrow. If things continue like that out there we’ll be stuck here for an entire week anyway,” he said as he placed his glass on the coffee table, stood up and held his hand out to Karen.

Karen looked up to him, then placed her glass next to his and took the hand he offered. Frank pulled her up, but once she stood, Karen couldn’t bring herself to let go of his hand. She could almost feel the icy darkness pressing into her back and it felt like Frank’s hand was the only thing stopping her from tumbling into it.

Literally, it seemed.

“Woah, Karen,” Frank exclaimed. “Think that might’ve been one glass too many. Time to lie down.”

 

He pulled Karen behind him to her bedroom, holding her hand firmly in his grasp. Karen returned the tight grasp, and didn’t let go even when they stood next to her bed.

Karen chewed on her bottom lip, desperately trying to hold on to the little control she still had over all that searing guilt, anger, and despair that was bubbling stronger and stronger inside her.

Frank tugged at her hand and motioned towards the bed with his head, his concerned eyes trained on her.

“Ssss…” Great. Now she couldn’t speak properly anymore, either? Karen closed her eyes, swallowed, cleared her throat, and willed herself to form actual words.

“Stay with me, please,” she said, her voice croakier than she’d like, but at least she was being coherent. “’s so dark.” Ok, almost coherent.

But it seemed enough for Frank. His eyes became soft, and he nodded ever so slightly.

Karen nodded, too, more to herself than to him, and finally let go of his hand to climb on to the bed. She tugged off her pullover, too tired to actually change into her PJs, and settled into the bed in her lounge pants and t-shirt.

Frank had changed into jogging pants just after dinner when they’d made themselves comfortable on the couch that should have become his bed later on according to the original plan. Now he, too, was pulling of his hoodie, leaving him only in his t-shirt.

Even in her exhausted state, Karen’s eyes were pulled towards the way the black t-shirt stretched across Frank’s chest. She rolled her eyes at herself. Seriously, she was at the verge of a panic attack and this was what her mind decided to focus on?

She turned off the light and lay down on the right side of the bed, facing the middle. Frank mirrored her on the left. It was a regular queen size, but with Frank’s huge form, the two of them lay only inches apart, facing each other. Karen balled her hands to fists and rested them below her chin.

 

They lay like that for a while, just staring at each other in the dim light of the street lamps shining through the window. The snowfall was still heavy, its scurries turning into an orange haze illuminated by the street lighting.

 

Lying like that next to Frank had an incredibly calming effect on Karen. She felt even wider awake than before, but the darkness now seemed to loom somewhere in the corners of the room rather than near her.

Frank just stared back at her, quietly and steadily holding her gaze.

“I had a brother. His name was Kevin,” Karen finally said. She didn’t know how long it was since they had lied down, it felt like minutes and hours both at once, but suddenly, the words seemed to fall out of her mouth.

Frank just continued to hold her gaze. Karen anchored herself in it.

“My parents had already given up hope that they would ever have another child. I was eight when he was born. Mom said it was a miracle.

Even though we were so many years apart, he and I were inseparable. Dad told me when they brought him home that I would always have to take care of my little brother. At first, I just carried him everywhere I went. Then I dragged him, and then he ran after me.

Even when the other kids in my class desperately tried to get away from their younger siblings following them around, I hung out with Kev all the time.

We lived in Fagan Corners, a small town of a couple of thousand people in the country in Vermont. Everybody knew everybody. There was one church, and all of us belonged to it.

My parents were religious. Mom particularly. Dad cared about living a good life according to Christian principles, about getting involved in the community, but in his life, nothing was absolute. For him, the teachings were guidelines, for Mom, they were rules. But still, the two of them worked out. They were happy, I think.

Dad loved being outdoors. He took me everywhere with him, taught me how to ski, ice-skate, hunt, shoot, climb, signed me up for the girl scouts. You name it. Same with Kev, but he was still too little most of the time. Dad was the kindest, most generous man you can imagine. On the weekends, he’d sing at the top of his lungs, church songs, pop songs, rock songs, all of them. Then he’d grab my mom and dance with her in the kitchen.

My mom… she … was good, too, but she was weak. I don’t know why, but she needed rules, almost like she didn’t want to think for herself. She hid behind them a lot, like, it wasn’t her decision, she couldn’t be blamed, it was just those rules. In that regard, our church was perfect for her.

 

Then, when I was fourteen, in the fall, I came home from school and there was a police car in the driveway and church members everywhere.

Turned out dad had had a heart attack at work that day and they found him too late.” At that, Karen’s eyes were tearing up, and she briefly pressed one hand against her mouth.

“Mom just… she just shut down. She’d married dad when they’d still been very young. He’d always taken care of every major decision. She was completely overwhelmed, all the financial arrangements, the funeral, everything.

So I managed all of that. And she got better, gradually. Went to church a lot, the community really helped her a lot.

But then, just 6 months after my dad died, she suddenly told us she was getting married again. To Jeb, the guy second in our church. Kev and I had never really liked him. He’d always been after my mom but couldn’t do anything about it. But now that my dad was dead he took his chance.

There wasn’t really much we could do. And as soon as he’d moved in with us after the wedding, he changed everything. Tried to control everything we did, how we dressed, told us off every time we broke any of his gazillion rules. Made us pray three times a day.

He got meaner and meaner. He saw me kiss a boy once, and when I got home, he was waiting for me. He called me a slut and forbade me from ever seeing any boy ever again. He hit Kev and me a lot, but always so others wouldn’t see it. Never my mom, though. At the beginning, Kev and I would run to her and tell her what Jeb did, but she only said “sins must be punished, you know that my dear” and shit like that.”

Frank’s eyes got hard and she could see a muscle in his jaw twitch. Still, she held on to his gaze.

 

“I hated his guts, and I did a lot of things just to piss him off. As soon as I turned 18, I left home. My dad had created what he called “future fund” for both Kevin and me. We were supposed to use it for college or anything else we wanted to do once we finished high school. It wasn’t much – actually couldn’t have paid my way through college – but it was enough to move out into my own apartment. Kev spent a lot of time with me, most times secretly. He took everything particularly hard. He’d hardly known dad compared to me, and even though Jeb was such an asshole, Kevin still tried the best he could to make him happy, he was such a good boy. But that just wasn’t possible. You can’t make someone like Jeb happy.

Still, to the outside, we were all one happy family, Jeb made sure of that. He forced me to still go to church with them every Sunday and to come home for lunch afterwards.

I worked two jobs at that time, trying to make enough money to pay a lawyer to help me get Kevin away from my parents. I’d also thought about just taking him and running away, but he wasn’t anywhere near finishing high school, and if they’d caught us they’d probably have separated us forever.

 

When I finally had enough money together to be able to afford a drawn-out court battle if necessary, Kevin was fourteen and I was twenty-two. But we failed. The whole damn town was standing behind Jeb. He spun the story like I tried to break up the family, like I’d never gotten over my father’s death, and rejected Jeb’s honest attempts of building a family with us from the start. The judge was part of our church, the policemen were part of our church, everyone was part of our church, and all of them thought that Jeb was one of the most righteous men among them.

But I refused to give up, so I went back to work to be able to help Kevin get emancipated. That year, Kevin turned up at my studio one night in tears. One of his classmates had been sent to conversion therapy. Apparently Jeb and some of the other church leaders felt that Kev’s classmate was not masculine enough, and had shipped him off to a camp where stuff like electroshocks, drugs and even waterboarding were used to make homosexuals ‘right’ again.

Kevin was worried sick that Jeb would do the same with him. Kevin had realized he was gay that year, and now he was constantly out of his mind for worry Jeb would find out.

I worked my ass off to be able to speed up the emancipation process. I also did some investigating to see whether there was anything child protective services could do in the meantime, but again, they were full of people from our church.

 

About two months after his sixteenth birthday, Kevin called me frantically. Jeb had somehow found out that Kevin was gay, and had told him over dinner that he wanted to send him to a conversion camp as well. Kevin had just gotten up, grabbed his schoolbag, and run out to the car before Jeb could stop him. Now he was trying to get to my place. He was crying and just so scared.”

Karen’s voice broke, and she could feel the tears coming again but this time, she didn’t bother to stop them.

“While he was talking to me, I noticed that his responses were coming slower and slower. I asked him if he was ok, he seemed off, and Kevin said he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He was slurring. I told him to stop the car but he didn’t answer anymore and then I just heard a loud crash and …”

At that Karen’s eyes got blurry from her tears, and she could feel them running down the side of her face on to her pillow. Frank’s facial expression became pained, and he wordlessly scooted closer to engulf her in a tight hug. Karen buried her face in his chest and melted into him.

“I could still hear him breathing. I pleaded with him to stay awake, to talk to me while I was trying to call 911 from the landline but then there was silence and I couldn’t hear him anymore. When the ambulance got there it was already too late.”

Her voice was muffled against Frank’s chest and his shirt was quickly getting soaked by now.

“Sshh, sshh, s’ okay, I got ya,” Frank whispered. His lips brushed the top of her head, and he slowly began rubbing circles on Karen’s back.

After a few minutes, Karen wriggled upwards a bit so her face was at the level of Frank’s throat.

“It feels as if a part of me has been ripped out. It’s missing forever and the emptiness is never going away.”

“Yeah,” was all that Frank said with a rough voice.

Karen took a deep breath.

 

“The next days didn’t feel real. I knew I had to get out of Fagan Corners as soon as Kevin’s funeral was over. So I packed the few things I had, quit the apartment and drove to church.

I still have no idea how I managed to get through the service and the burial. I felt numb. I’d cried so much the previous days that there wasn’t anything left. I couldn’t look at mom or at Jeb. It felt as if they’d killed Kev, as if it was all their fault.

And mine. If I had only worked even more, if I had only found a way to get him out of there, Kevin would still be alive. I failed my little brother and now he’s dead. Dad told me to take care of him, but Kevin’s dead because I didn’t.”

 

Frank suddenly leant back and brought his hand to her chin.

“That was not your fault, you hear me? It was not your job to take care of your brother. You did, you felt you had to of course, but that was not your job. It was your mom’s job to protect Kevin and take care of him, you hear me? She was his parent. You did what you could. It’s. not. your. fault,” he said, his gaze burning into Karen’s eyes.

Karen just lowered them and stared straight ahead at Frank’s Adam’s apple. Frank pulled her close again.

“I know it doesn’t feel like that, no matter what other people say. But it’s true. It wasn’t your fault,” he reiterated. Karen could feel his voice rumbling in his chest where her forehead was touching it. 

She tried to accept his words, collected herself for a moment, cleared her throat and then continued.

 

“After the funeral I went into Kevin’s room and took a few things that I knew he cared about. Then I went into the study that used to be my dad’s and was now used by Jeb. There was a hidden safe behind a wooden wall cover. I don’t think even mom knew about it. It was completely untouched when I opened it. Dad had told me once that it was where he kept his important stuff. He never told me the combination, but I guessed it right the first time. It was his and mom’s wedding date.

Dad kept his .380 in there. He’d always told me that I should have it someday, so I decided to take it with me. There was also some cash I took, too.

I could hear the last guests leaving as I was closing the safe. When I walked past Jeb’s desk, I suddenly noticed that there was a file in the middle of it, on top of all the rest. It was Kev’s autopsy report. Lord knows how he got his hands on that.”

Karen could feel a fresh round of tears coming up at what was coming next.

“I read through it, and it said that the blood samples had shown that he’d had zolpidem in his system – sleeping pills. I knew the name from after my dad died. A doctor had prescribed it for my mom.

Which meant that Jeb and mom knew that Kevin would be upset when they told him that they’d send him to conversion camp, and that they drugged him during dinner, maybe even to ship him off right away. But then he drove off with the car.”

 

Frank was drawing circles on her back with his hands again. Still, Karen couldn’t help but brace herself against his reaction for what she’d tell him next.

“I bagged the autopsy report, and all I could feel was this… this all-consuming, blinding rage. My body was on fire. I took the .380, walked into the living room, pointed the gun at Jeb and asked him whether they had drugged Kev. He said yes, that it had been in Kev’s own best interest, that my brother had deviated from God’s path long ago, and that sinners had to be punished. I’ll never forget his face. He was convinced I wouldn’t shoot him. He was wrong.” Karen paused. This was it. “I shot him straight in the center of his chest.” Karen paused again. Frank’s rhythmic circles on her back didn’t even falter for a second. Still, Karen didn’t dare to look at him. Instead, she took a deep breath and continued.

“Mom was screaming her head off and threw herself on the floor. Think she thought she’d be next. But I couldn’t do it. She was still my mom. So I just told her that I’d never forgive her for killing Kevin, walked to the car, drove off and didn’t stop until I got to New York. I sold my car, dyed my hair brown and got a fake ID. I was terrified that the cops would find me, but no-one came for me. After a few weeks I found out why. The shot hadn’t killed Jeb, and he’d spun the story again. He told people that he’d had a heart attack over losing Kevin, just after all the guests and I had left. Guess he realized that pressing charges and tracking down a murder suspect across state lines would get the feds involved and result in too much attention on what he was doing, how he was treating people. According to what I could find online, he’s paralyzed from the waist down, though. I thought about going back and finishing him for once and all, but in the end, I decided not to. Neither Kevin nor my dad would want me to live with the guilt of killing a man. They’d want me to move on and to live my life, do what they couldn’t.”

 

That drew an assenting sound from Frank, but it was short. Karen finally willed herself to look up at him.

“I’ve never told anyone about this. Not even Matt or Foggy. They’d hate me. Sometimes I hate myself for what I did, too. But then there are other times when I’m glad that I did it, and just sad that my aim wasn’t more accurate because I was so angry.”

Frank looked down at her.

“He had it coming. And you got out of there, that’s most important.” He smiled wryly. “Not your first rodeo,” he repeated his own words from so long ago.

“Nor the only one,” Karen added quietly.

“Shot someone else, too?” Frank asked, his voice level, still drawing circles with his hands.

Karen nodded.

 

“When Matt, Foggy and I were investigating Fisk. His right-hand man, Wesley, found out that Ben and I had located and talked to Fisk’s mother. Wesley drugged me when I was on my way home. When I finally came to, we were in an abandoned warehouse at the docks, just him and me, a loaded gun between us. He also didn’t think I’d use it; he hadn’t even cuffed me.

He threatened to kill Matt, Foggy, Ben, and then me if we didn’t stop working against Fisk. It was him or me. He was distracted for a second when his phone rang. This time, I didn’t just take one shot, I emptied the round.”

“Atta girl,” was all that Frank said.

“Fisk never found out that it was me who killed Wesley. I wiped my prints and threw the gun into the harbor. If he ever finds out and comes after me, I’m going to kill him, too.”

There was a clear conviction in her voice. Karen had decided this shortly after Wesley’s death. If it were her or someone else, she’d make sure it would always be her.

 

“Not unless I get him first,” Frank grumbled. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Same thing in case Jeb decides to pay you a visit here. They’ll be dead before they can touch you. Promise you tell me if there are any signs that one of them is coming after you.”

Karen nodded against his throat.

“So you don’t think I’m a monster?” she asked, her lips brushing against his skin. By now, Karen already had a good idea of what the answer would be, but she needed to hear it from him anyway.

“What? No! Karen, don’t let anyone tell you that, ok? People don’t know shit. You’re a survivor. You do what you have to do. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Frank said adamantly, pushing away from her a bit to fix her with his gaze.

Karen averted hers.

“But Jeb…” she began.

“Jeb’s an asshole. He’s ruining people’s lives. Someone’s gotta stop him, or slow him down,” Frank continued. He cradled her chin and waited until Karen looked at him again.

“You did what you had to. ‘t wasn’t pretty, you wouldn’t have done it if you’d ‘ve had any other choice. You were brave and you survived, that’s all that counts. Don’t you dare let anyone tell you different, ok?”

Karen bit her lip and nodded.

 

Frank pulled her against him again, and Karen nuzzled his chest. Every fiber of her being was exhausted but she felt unbelievably relieved to finally have told someone, and to have told him particularly.

“Always knew you were badass,” Frank mumbled, seemingly both to her and to himself. “But that’s – that’s some next-level grit.” He paused. “Don’t know many people who’d have survived all that and still turn out all heart.”

Karen scoffed. “’m serious,” Frank insisted and pressed another kiss on to the top of her head. “Thanks for telling me. Know it couldn’t ‘ve been easy.”

“You’re the only person I ever wanted to tell,” Karen replied honestly. Frank hummed.

“How’re you feeling now?” he asked, never ceasing his hold on her.

“Safe,” Karen wanted to say. “Relieved, ‘cos I knew you’d understand.”

But she didn’t. The moment was already far too intimate anyway. So she settled for “better”.

“Time to sleep then,” Frank stated rather than asked. “Unless there’s anything else you’d like to tell me.”

Karen shook her head. She hoped Frank wouldn’t retreat to the couch now. She didn’t think she could hold off the darkness without him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay,” Frank added, as if sensing her thoughts.

Karen sighed, nodded, and tried to relax, which was much easier now. Frank’s body heat seemed to seep through her, driving away the cold that came with the darkness. The darkness itself was quickly receding, and her bedding was perfectly soft and welcome against her drained self. Frank’s arms were heavy around her, but felt comforting and secure rather than some kind of burden.

“Night,” Karen said softly as she closed her eyes.

“Sleep well,” Frank replied. His hand moved up a bit, and the last thing she remembered was feeling him massage the back of her head and the base of her neck.


End file.
